The Treacherous Ice
by WiseQueen
Summary: The ice on which Arindis was standing was crushed. A few yards away her father could only watch helplessly as his daughter disappeared into the waves. Crossing the Helcaraxë was perilous ...


_A/N: Thanks to my beta-reader, Willow Oran at Entmoot ( www . entmoot . com), who helped me whip this story into shape._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's world._

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**The Treacherous Ice**

They were about halfway across the Helcaraxë when the ice itself became a problem.

It started with reports from those of the southern flank of the host: they could see water!

This was not good news. If they were close enough to the edge of the ice to be able to see it, they would be close enough to the thinner parts of it to be in trouble. Orders were given to change to a more northerly course, to get further off from the water.

Instead, the water came closer.

It was closing in on them, appearing further towards the north as well. After a few days Nolofinwë, Nerwen, and the other leaders of the host realized what was going on: this was where the main current of the strait was running. This was why the ice was much thinner and less reliable.

Arindis had seen the water, and she didn't like it. She vaguely remembered – although she had been very young then, and she was still only about thirty now – that they had looked across a large stretch of water many years ago. The adults would look at a red glow at the other side of the water, and some would cry, and some would curse. She didn't like it then – and she didn't like it now either.

Her father, Angarato, hadn't cursed or cried. He had talked to Nerwen, his sister, and they had both looked angry. So had the King, her grand-uncle. She had realized later that it was the red glow rather than the water which made them angry. She had begun to hear murmurs about the ships that had been stolen and burnt. So she hoped that the water itself wouldn't make them angry now, and that there would be enough ice to take them across to Middle-earth.

Then, the storm began. Perhaps it was just bad luck, or a part of the curse upon the Noldor – or perhaps this area was more prone to storms because of the current. Either way, the storm was upon them, raging for days.

What they had begun to notice, became very obvious now: the ice was getting more rough. There were edges and ridges, as if waves of water had splashed across the ice, or blocks of ice had slid over its surface, and then frozen solid. They had to climb over piles of ice, and the strong wind made it difficult to keep one's balance.

Erufailon tried to help Glorfindel and his other cousins and close friends whenever they needed it. Itarillë's cousin Arindis used to play with them, sometimes even Arothir, Arindis' brother. Close to forty, Erufailon was older than all of them, making him feel a certain responsibility – when they didn't all forget about it when having fun.

This was no fun.

On the second day of the storm the water was in front of them. Not open, like what they had seen when staring across at the red glow above Losgar. This water looked like a thick soup of ice. Large and small ice blocks were floating in the water, pressed northwards by the strong wind. The howling of the storm was only partly covering the noise of the blocks of ice being ground against each other, piled upon each other by the pressure of the wind working against the current.

The host made a halt to consider the situation.

"So we would have needed the ships after all," Findarato said.

"No!" his sister protested, "on the contrary! Ships cannot cross that turmoil. The ice would pile up on them and press them down, crushing them and making them sink. The only way to cross that stretch is by stealth. Carefully crossing one sheet of ice at a time, until you reach the solid ice floor again on the other side." She took a deep breath. "Don't you agree, Uncle?"

Nolofinwë nodded.

"There is no turning back. Now less than ever," he said. "There is nothing for it but to risk this."

He gave orders to proceed with extra care. Only the smallest children should be carried. It would be safer for both parties if a child could walk on his own, being led by hand by an adult.

The King walked down to the water, where a large sheet of ice was being pushed against the more solid ice-shelf, rocking up and down with the waves and the wind. Cautiously he stepped onto it and began walking across. The others followed.

Erufailon shook his head when his father offered him his hand.

"No, Atar," he said. "I can manage. Why don't you help that family over there instead? They've got three children, younger than I."

Many families were glad of an extra hand from those who weren't leading children. This was the most dangerous part of the entire crossing and many families got separated. The sheets of ice would bend and break beneath them, sending father and son in one direction, and mother and daughter in another. Sometimes the ice sheet would not break, but would waver under the weight and slowly topple over, plunging people into the frigid sea.

Arindis was clinging to her mother's hand as they climbed from one ice sheet to another. Had she ever thought it difficult to walk on the rough surface earlier? It couldn't compare to this. This ice was in constant movement, pushed ever northwards by the storm. Around them the wind was howling, only interrupted by cries of fear. Once, too near for comfort, she saw the corner of an ice sheet break off under the feet of a mother carrying her child. The father set down the child he was carrying and jumped into the water to rescue his wife; she screamed in panic and clung to him, pinning his arms so he couldn't move – and they both went down. Erufailon's grandfather lifted up the remaining child and let him weep.

It was impossible for the host to camp. They just pressed on. When a group was on a large sheet, strong enough to be trusted, they might rest for a while, perhaps even sleep a little if the wind allowed the ice to stay level. A guard was needed at all times, though, in case the ice should start breaking. Most of the time the ice didn't stay level for long. There was little chance even to eat properly.

They were nearing the end of this awful area when the worst happened: Arindis' father and brother had just crossed onto a new ice sheet. The wind was getting stronger. Her mother had just crossed over and was about to pull Arindis after her, when a large block of ice pressed itself in between them.

The ice-sheets were drawn apart.  
So were their hands.

The ice on which Arindis was standing was crushed. A few yards away her father, who had grabbed his wife's hand when she nearly lost her balance, could only watch helplessly as his daughter disappeared into the waves.

"Mother!" Arindis screamed, but stopped as her mouth was filled with water. She tried to swim, to find something to climb onto, but the wall of the big block of ice was too smooth, there was nothing for her to get a grip on.

Suddenly there was someone next to her in the water. She turned her head.

Erufailon.

He grabbed her arms, shaking her off when she tried to cling to his.

"No, don't," he said. "Relax. I can pull you."

She looked into his eyes, feeling her initial panic subside. She trusted him.

It still took her all her self-control to stay still while he went behind her and got a good grip under her shoulders. But when he pulled her through the water, she relaxed, feeling safe in his strong arms.

Erufailon had dived after her as soon as he saw her go down. He knew the risk – he had also seen the results of panic – but he didn't have time to consider, he just knew that he had to try to save one of his friends.

He told her to stay still, and she obeyed. He was relieved, now he could maneuver her towards the other ice sheet, where her parents were waiting. He put one arm around her and used the other to pull himself onto the edge of the other ice sheet. Arindis' father was there, taking his arm, supporting him as he climbed out of the water, pulling Arindis with him. She turned to him and embraced him, before she let her father embrace her, and then turned to her mother and wept out her fright and relief in her arms.

Angarato took Erufailon's hands.

"You – " he began, words failing him. "You saved her – I don't know how to reward you. Thank you – if you hadn't …"

He paused, regaining control over his speech.

"There is nothing I can do for you right now," he said. "But when we get safely across to Middle-earth – let it not be said that I forgot what you did."

"It was no more than I had to do," Erufailon protested. "I was lucky enough to be able to help. Perhaps I myself got help from the Valar. Perhaps they haven't completely abandoned us after all."

The storm subsided as they got to the other side of the current and were back on solid ice again. Arindis hardly left Erufailon's side. Her eyes were shining whenever she looked at him.

Erufailon appreciated the new closeness of their friendship. He had been impressed with her conduct in the water, how she kept her head clear enough to do as she was told – and he was glad of the trust she had shown him in letting him do what he needed to do.

Others had been less fortunate, they heard. Erufailon's cousin, their friend Glorfindel, was still unconscious. He had been rescued from the water, but both his parents had perished.

Even Turukano had lost his wife. He had saved his daughter, Itarillë, who had fallen in – but when he tried to save Elenwe as well, the ice came crushing down on them, and he barely saved his own life, thus not orphaning his daughter completely.

The host was lessened when it carried on.


End file.
